


A Guiding Wind

by Straya



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Lafarga as Wind Dad/Older Wind Bro, Mentions of Zaveid, Pre-Canon, Windriders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27912814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Straya/pseuds/Straya
Summary: Everyone always leaves him behind. There's nowhere he feels like he really belongs. When will someone finally care enough to keep him around...?
Relationships: Dezel & Lafarga
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	A Guiding Wind

“Zaveid? _Zaveid!_ Where are you!?”

His panicked cries were likely not the best idea as Dezel rushed through Volgran forest, frantically pushing his way through the brush and darting around trees as fast as his legs could carry him. Mere minutes prior, Dezel had awakened to find himself alone, apparently abandoned by the other seraph. Why, oh why had he taken the opportunity to doze for a short while? He hadn't actually needed it! Rarely did seraphim require sleep and yet Dezel had trusted Zaveid enough to nap in his presence a short while. Now Zaveid was gone, having only left a whisper on the wind about how there was something he needed to do and that Dezel should continue heading northeast on his own. The trouble was that it hadn't taken long for a hellion to find the small seraph. The sound of the beast pounding through the brush behind him was enough to keep Dezel calling for Zaveid even though he knew his efforts would be in vain.

“ _ZAVEID!_ ”

The tears flowed fast and free, half blinding Dezel as he tried to keep ahead of the wolf-like hellion that was gaining on him by the second. Oh, how he wished he'd practiced more with the pendulums Zaveid had given him. If only he knew how to use the wind to augment his speed. He was too young, though, his mere seven or so years of life experience not enough to give him even the barest of fighting chances against a hellion.

This was it. After being abandoned yet again, he was finally going to die...

* * *

Green eyes turning in the general direction of Lastonbell, the seraph took a moment to read the wind and assess the area around him. About a quarter of a mile from the ruins where the Windriders were breaking camp to make ready for travel, Lafarga was assuming his usual duty of scouting out the road ahead. Encounters with bandits in the woods were not uncommon, something Lafarga wanted to avoid if possible. Though the group he traveled with made their living as mercenaries and could hold their own against most human foes, it was time and energy spent, even as any prolonged stop meant possibly exposing the entire caravan to a hellion attack. And hellions? Well, Lafarga was the only one who could even begin to deal with them. Better if they could simply plow on through, avoiding any obstacles, and make good time in reaching their next stop. Fortunately, the way appeared clear enough for now, despite the light haze of Malevolence that drifted in and out of woods here and there.

As Lafarga turned to head back to the ruins, however, the wind whispered urgently in his ear, causing him to glance off to his left. Something was wrong and that something was getting closer to his position with each passing moment. Hardly had he summoned his whip into being, the weapon materializing in his gloved hands when a shout rang out in the distance. Unfurling the whip, Lafarga readied himself just in time to see a young seraph recklessly running through the brush in a total panic. Behind him was a werewolf, claws ripping up dirt and grass as it closed the gap, snapping jaws a mere body length from the boy's heels.

“Damn hellion, like a cat after a mouse...” The words were hissed out a second before Lafarga lashed out with the whip, a gust of wind rushing outward from it, transforming into a veritable wall of force. The blast struck true, slamming into the hellion's right flank and shoulder, the pain of the strike combined with the sheer force of the blow causing it to topple mid-lunge and plow into the ground with a loud yelp.

“This way, kid!” Lafarga called out, his free hand waving the boy in his direction. “Don't stop! That hellion isn't finished, yet!”

Though stunned by the sudden assault that had taken the hellion off its feet for a moment, the boy managed to get his act together quickly enough and run in Lafarga's direction. Unfortunately, the werewolf was almost as swift about regaining its wits and picking itself up. Reeling his weapon back, Lafarga planted his feet and whirled his whip up into a horizontal spiral, creating a twisting wind tunnel that spun outward to crash into the hellion. Another satisfying yowl followed as the storm force gale hurled the creature back into a tree trunk with a satisfying crack, though even a hard blow like that would only keep it off its feet for a few short moments.

By this time, the younger seraph had managed to close the gap but remained no less panicked. Somewhere between exhaustion and being utterly terrified, he was damn near out of breath by the time he came to a halt at Lafarga's side. “I lost...I lost my friend! Have you seen him? I don't know where the old man went!”

“We'll have to worry about your friend later, alright? For now, I need you to trust me and do as I say.” Kneeling down, Lafarga set his free hand on the kid's shoulder, trying to meet his gaze despite the curtain of shaggy bangs that hid part of his face. “You need to head northeast from here, toward the Tintagel Ruins. Run and don't turn back, understand?”

“But the hellion...” He was already glancing in the direction of the werewolf as it made its way toward them, slowed by an obvious limp but still ready to fight.

“I'll take care of the hellion, but it'll be harder for me to do so if you're still here. Now run, kid! Go!”

“You won't leave me, will you? Promise me you'll follow me!”

Though the hesitation to follow directions did test his patience, Lafarga managed a kind smile, regardless. “I promise. Now go. Hurry.”

The boy wiped his tear-stained face with the back of one sleeve and nodded before running off again. Lafarga watched him go for just a moment before turning his full attention back to the hellish beast that was drawing ever closer. Unsurprisingly, it hesitated as the younger of the two seraphim retreated, weighing its options. Clearly, the smaller, unarmed target would be the wiser choice to pursue and, that in mind, the hellion started to turn in that direction. Lafarga's eyes narrowed in determination.

“Hey, we're not done, yet!” The whip snaked out to wrap around one of the hellion's hind legs, Lafarga dragging it back, boots grinding through the dirt as he fought to hold his ground. “I'm the one you want, you bastard! Come on, now!”

The fur on the back of its neck bristling in anger and hate, the werewolf turned its murderous gaze on the older wind seraph with a menacing growl before turning to attack. Lafarga slid out of the way as it barreled at him and let it stumble past, weapon dematerializing as he did so. As it clumsily gathered itself to charge again, Lafarga dashed off, drawing the wounded hellion away from the ruins and the small seraph struggling to reach them.

* * *

By the time the Tintagel Ruins were within sight, Dezel was completely worn out. Kneeling in the shadow of a particularly large tree, he leaned against the trunk and tugged at the collar of his shirt, trying to use it to clean the rest of the tears and sweat from his face. Terror and worry still pulsed through him, causing him to glance back over one shoulder with frequency, his ears straining for the sounds of footfalls. Though Dezel didn't even know his rescuer's name, he couldn't help but hope the other seraph had managed to draw the hellion off and escape, as well. Dezel was so tired of being left behind, of being told to leave and go on by himself. Just once it would be nice to keep a friend for longer than a few months.

Voices down the way caught his attention, causing Dezel to glance toward the ruins again. There were several humans there, milling about some covered wagons while they finished loading up supplies and readying their horses. Had the other seraph known they'd be here? Did he know who they were? Well, not like it mattered that much, since none of them would be able to see Dezel, anyway. Still, it seemed odd that he would've been told to head this way without a good reason of some kind. Then again, maybe the other seraph had just been trying to get rid of him. That was usually how things went for some reason. No one ever wanted to keep Dezel around for long.

“You made it.”

The voice startled Dezel, nearly causing him to fall over against the tree trunk completely. Turning, he found himself looking up into the kind eyes of the other seraph as he approached, a gentle smile on his face.

Dezel scowled a little in turn and looked away. “Yeah, well... Not like it was hard. Just more running.”

A soft chuckled followed as a hand was offered in Dezel's direction. “It would've been less running if you knew how to ride the wind properly.”

Dezel eyed the hand with a frown before taking it and pulling himself up. “No one's ever taught me how.”

“Mn, I had a feeling. You've been on your own off and on for a while, haven't you?”

“Yeah. Stupid Zaveid left me this morning while I was asleep. Didn't even say why. They never say why.”

The older seraph's expression hardened at the mention of Zaveid's name, but the harsh look was gone again in a mere moment, accompanied by a brief shake of his head. “Sounds rough. What's your name, kid?”

“Dezel.”

“Well, you can call me Lafarga. See those humans out there by the ruins? They're my traveling companions and I need to get back to them before they leave for Lastonbell. If you want, you can come along for the ride.”

“Traveling companions? What do you mean? Can they see you? Do they know you're around?”

Lafarga chuckled as he straightened up and adjusted his medallion adorned top hat with one hand. “They can't, no, except for one of them. But it isn't bad that they know a seraph's around, is it? It means they leave offerings for me from time to time and make for good company on the road.”

“Even if they can't see you?”

“Even if they can't see me. I still enjoy the sounds of their laughter and conversation. They're good people.”

“But humans... They cause Malevolence.”

“They can, yes, but my vessel keeps me safe.” Starting in the direction of the wagons, Lafarga cast a glance back in Dezel's direction. “I think I can talk him into keeping you safe, as well. If you want to come along, that is.”

Still hesitating somewhat, yet yearning for the too-good-to-be-true scenario to be real, Dezel slowly edged forward and away from the tree. “Maybe I do. But why would you let me come along, anyway?”

“A fair question. There aren't that many of us left these days, though, are there? And what kind of guardian seraph would I be if I let one of my own, especially someone as young as you, wander off and get eaten by hellions?”

Dezel was silent a few seconds, considering that. He then took another couple of steps forward. “You're sure your vessel will be alright with me being around?”

Lafarga nodded. “Brad is a good man, kind to those he considers family. Besides, I'm sure he'd think having two seraphim about instead of just one would be good for his business.”

Dezel wrinkled his nose in uncertainty, mouth quirked in a frown. “That's weird, a human thinking a seraph is family.”

Unable to help himself, the elder wind seraph laughed before offering his hand to Dezel once more. “I'm sure a lot of other seraphim would think so these days, but the Windriders have been as much of a blessing to me as I've been to them. Now, if you're ready, we should go. They'll be leaving in a few minutes.”

Lips drawing into a thin line in thought, Dezel eyed that outstretched hand a moment, still somewhat uncertain. Some part of him was terrified, thinking this was all too good to be true and he'd be on his own again in a matter of months, if not weeks or even days. Yet he couldn't help but hope that this kind seraph who had just saved his life would finally be the one who'd let him stick around. That was all Dezel wanted, really. Just one friend he could count on. One person who made him feel like he was worth something.

Maybe he would get burned again. Maybe this would all end in tears, just like every other attempt to find a home had in the past. Yet some small fragment of hope remained, just enough to make him put his hand in that of Lafarga.

Nodding, Dezel managed a small smile. “Yeah, I'm ready.”

Lafarga smiled gently back at him. “Then let's go, Dezel. You're with me, now.”

**Author's Note:**

> There's so much we don't know about the Windriders – how they formed, when Lafarga joined them, whether or not they were cognizant of his presence, how he met Dezel, how old Dezel was a the time and even how old Dezel is on the whole. Everyone's got their own headcanons, some of which are no doubt similar to this...or maybe quite different. I just figured I'd edit and post this old short fic I wrote a few years back exploring some of my own ideas rather than leave it sitting unshared, hoping at least a few people might enjoy it.
> 
> Also, I know I'm very overdue on updating my multi-chapter D/R fics, but it's been a rough year and an especially rough last few months. My thanks to everyone for your patience and continued readership, even though short fics have been all I've been able to churn out as of late. Hopefully, I'll be able to get some new chapters posted for those longer fics sooner rather than later.


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